Steps of Destiny
by ladydragontl
Summary: Nobody said that the path of destiny was going to be easy. Both Arthur and Merlin must learn to let go of the pain of the past, and realize that it's going to take both of them to save the future. No slash, just friendship, angst and lots of Merlin!Whump
1. Chapter 1

A/N: My first real epic story! Putting on my brave face :-) Thanks to Beth for beta reading!  
>Enjoy!<p>

Steps of Destiny – Chapter One

It was so dark he could barely discern the outline of the forest surrounding him. A pine-scented breeze felt cool against his fevered skin. A chorus of crickets hummed nearby. He paid no attention to it, his mind focused only on one thing. He had to keep going. He could not think, eat, or sleep; he could not do anything but this.

His surroundings were nothing but a colorless blur, as he pushed himself onward. All rational thoughts abandoned him days ago. Only the anger and fear kept him going and the threat of nightmares and pain kept him from stopping.

Forcing one foot in front of the other, he pushed his fatigued body beyond its limits. Tightening the hold he had on the small object in his hand. The bottoms of his feet were torn, bruised and bleeding from running so long without boots. Why he didn't have them, he couldn't remember. There wasn't much left of his clothing either, most of it ripped and tattered, from being snagged so many times on the bushes and trees he ran past.

His flesh throbbed painfully from the various cuts and bruises he got from stumbling through the forest for what seemed like days. His bones felt like they were on fire, and his muscles strained from the constant motion. All he knew was that he couldn't stop, couldn't rest. If he did, then the nightmares and agony of what had happened would start all over again. But that's what they had wanted; they had wanted him to suffer for what he had done.

He blinked, trying to clear his watering eyes, struggling to focus his vision. Using the sleeve of his torn shirt he tried to wipe away the water from his eyes, only to succeed in blurring his vision more.

Running seemingly forever with the smell of sweat and fear in one's nose would weary anyone, and it was getting to him too. He was so tired of running and being in a constant state of fear, but he couldn't go home. Not that he even knew which way it was. He just couldn't take the risk of the same fate befalling Camelot and his friends, as it had the others. Enough people had suffered because of the choices he had made. He was bound and determined not to let anymore innocence fall because of him.

_So many dead...and all because of me... _

He choked back a sob, trying to push the painful memories into the back of his mind. He had woken up in the middle of this god forsaken forest alone. He had laid still for hours, in fear of them still being around. He just lay there listening to the sounds of the forest around him, and noticed they hadn't taken the small object he now gripped tightly in his hand. It was then he finally realized that he was truly alone, that he curled up under a small tree. Pulling his knees up to his chest he buried his head in his arms. Sitting there lost and alone, the full force of what had happened hit him, and he let his emotions go. The tears had the sobs burst from him like a damn. The pain of what he had lost and the agonizing memory of seeing all those people who had suffered.

He couldn't bring himself to look at the thing he carried in his hand, it was given to him as a reminder of what he had lost, and it was all he had left. The tears fell like rain, and eventually exhaustion over took him and he fell asleep. It is when his mind entered the realm of dreams that he began to understand the true nature of the curse, the curse they had placed on him. It was this curse that truly frightened him, and drove him continuously forward.

Shaking his head, he pushes the thoughts away, and tried to focus on just getting one foot in front of the other. In the back of his mind, his magic begins to hum, which shocks him a little, he has been trying to call on his magic for days with no success. An icy chill of foreboding shivers through his body. He knows he isn't thinking clearly, and his sleep deprived mind might be playing tricks on him, but he can't ignore the sensations his magic is sending him. Someone is out there. Following him. Coming after him.

_Its them! Their coming back for me! No...no...must keep going. I'm not ready to fight them...not yet. faster faster faster._

Panic begins to set in and he tries to increase his pace. The ground becomes muddy and his steps even more sluggish. What little sense of balance he has, left him now too. His mind is in a state of panic, his heart beats rhythmically and the pain is all he can sense. Trapped in this nightmare, he continues to stumble forward.

As he attempts to run, a new feeling is growing alongside the fear: anger. Anger for what they had been taken from him, and the suffering they had caused. Anger at himself for not doing more...for letting those he cared about down. He squeezed down harder on the small object in his hand, it cut into his palm, blood seeping out from between his fingers.

_I'm weak, I'm pitiful. I should have done something; I'm stronger than them, why didn't I stop them!_

He let's out his anger in what seemed to be part shout, part scream, and part battle cry. His anger propels him forward; he doesn't even feel his steps, whether he was becoming used to the pain, or his mind was just tuning it out, he didn't care. He would keep going in this half-conscious state as long as he could.

The moment the cloud of anger receded from his mind, the fear came back more powerful than before: his stomach tightens and he bends over as if a powerful force punched him. Leaning against a nearby tree, he tries to catch his breath before continuing on.

The path he has taken leads across a shallow riverbed, where he risks stopping only to gulp down a few handfuls of the icy water. It feels like heaven as it slides down his parched throat, calming some of the aches in his empty stomach. Splashing some of the cold water on his face he hopes that it might wake him up a little.

Glancing up, he feels the pull of his magic again, this time it's stronger. Knowing he can't stop for very long, he absent-mindedly steps through the shallow river. Ignoring the burning stings in his injured feet as they came into contact with cold water. Climbing up the steep embankment on the other side, exhaustion finally overpowers him. He stumbles a few more steps and puts his hands on his knees to prevent himself from collapsing. His lungs burn with each struggling breath, and with each gasp, the pain of his injuries make themselves known. He's now is all too aware of all the aching muscles in his body. He keeps breathing: in-out-in-out-in-out, until his breathing settles into a more relaxed rhythm.

Believing he is calm enough to continue, he misplaces a step and falls.

He cries out and falls heavily to the ground, rolling over and over down the steep incline. Jagged rocks tare his already abused skin. Thorny bushes scrape him unmercifully. He uses one hand to try and slow his decent, refusing to let go of the object grasped tightly in his other.

Images flashed in his mind. His father's final words, as he lay dying in his arms. His mother's sweet smile. Arthur's look of confusion, when he told him that Morgaouse conjured image of his mother was just an illusion and a lie. Gwen's look of fear, when she was accused of sorcery and sentenced to death. The look of betrayal in Morgana's eyes as she lay dying from the poison.

_So many regrets. So many wounds unhealed_.

His downward plunge ends with a bone-jarring splash as he lands partly in the stream of icy water. White-hot pain sizzles through him and the blackness starts to engulfed him.

_Cannot move. Hurts so much._

He was miles from help. No one knows where he is. He had been taken by magic, stolen out of his room in the middle of the night. How long before anyone realized he was gone. A fortnight? A month? Longer? Would he ever get out of this forest alive?

_No! I will not give in! They will not win. _

Trying to pull on his magic to give him strength, he feebly lifts his head and tries to will himself to get up. But the fatigue and the pain are too much, and his magic seems to have abandoned him yet again. He closes his eyes, letting his head slump back down and succumbs to the darkness. Knowing that the inevitable was coming, a small part of him just wished for it to end, before the nightmare began.

_He stands in the middle of the small cottage and watches as small flames began to dance around him, when suddenly fire engulfs the walls around him. His eyes are watery with smoldering ash that burns. The blackness of the smoke is getting thicker and starts to intertwine with the orange of the flames. He coughs and gasps as he struggles to escape, but the flames have blocked his only escape route. _

_He narrows his eyes to a squint, searching desperately for the door, but the room is hazy and indistinct through the smoke, and his stinging eyes are streaming, blurring his vision. His throat and lungs ache, seared by the smoke, and no matter how deeply he gasps, he cannot get enough air._

_"Somebody please help me!" he rasps. His voice is hoarse. His cry barely more than a croak as the smoke fills his lungs._

_He watches as the flames draw closer and hotter. Eventually it is all he can see. The heat is unbearable, scorching his hands as he tries to crawl away from the flames. Black spots dance before his eyes. He struggles dizzily to get away, but there is nowhere to go. The fire is all around him, the flames licking at his clothes, his skin. He can smell the stench of burned flesh and singed hair, and the pain is almost too much to bare. He is dying._

_He lays there in a haze of pain and fear, praying for the mercy of death to end his suffering. It doesn't come, it only gets worse. Images began to flash in front of his eyes. Women, men, and children all of them trapped by the same fire that is turning him to ash. There are so many of them, burning...dying. Their pain becoming his own, and his own screams become mingled with theirs. _

_There is nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide from this unimaginable agony._

_Suddenly there is a blinding flash of light and he squeezes his eyes shut from the overwhelming brightness. The light reaches out for him and surrounds him. The pain begins to fade, and a different kind of warmth begins to fill him. _

_"Merlin...you mustn't..." a woman's voice whispers in his ear. It's hard to make out her words, as his body and mind are becoming overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations he is feeling. _

_It's too much! Please...just let it end. I can't take anymore! _

_"I know...feel your pain...take my hand!" He can barely hear her now, his mind was beginning to shut down, it was too much for him to handle anymore. _

_"Please!" the voice screams._

_The desperation in the woman's voice catches his attention, only because he has felt so much of it these past few days. Opening his eyes, he sees a slender hand appear through the blinding light. There is small sliver of hope that starts to grow in his heart, he doesn't hesitate and reaches for it._

Merlin's eyes snap open, and a scream rips out from the back of his throat. A scream that tares at the very fabric of his soul. It is filled with so much pain and suffering that it shakes the very ground he lies on.

R&R please!  
>It's my first real story! So please tell me what you think! Second chapter coming soon!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Well I just wanted to thank everyone who posted a review for chapter one! Thanks so much it really means a lot! Sorry this took so long, real life just took over for a while. Two kids, going to school full time, and working full time leaves little time for writing, that and this is my first story ever! So, still horrible with the whole grammar thing, but many thanks to Beth for helping me out with that! Hope you guys enjoy!

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Steps of Destiny - Chapter 02

Arthur ran his fingers over the bloody footprint. Clenching his jaw tightly, as his eyes followed the trail off into the distance. Gripping the reins of his horse tighter he stood and turned to face the others.

"He is heading south again, towards the river."

Sir Gwaine moved his horse up behind Arthurs. "Are you sure it's him?" He asked.

"It's him." Arthur answered as he mounted, ignoring the fatigue that pulled at his aching muscles as he did. He turned and saw the other knights closing in as well. Sir Leon and Sir Elyan were riding next to each other, while Sir Lancelot, and Sir Percival were keeping their distance further back.

"How do you know?"

Arthur let out a small sigh. "The tracks keep changing direction, he doesn't seem to know where he's going." He would almost think it was amusing if the circumstances were different. "One thing I know is that Merlin has always had a lousy sense of direction. He still is the only one I know that can still get lost trying to get from one end of the castle to the other."

Lancelot fell in behind Arthur, his face blank, not amused with the comment. "Sire, I hate to be the voice of doubt, but we have been following this trail for almost two days now. Who is to say that this isn't just a lost traveler?"

Arthur couldn't help but glare at the young knight. "You doubt my skills as a hunter Sir Lancelot?"

"Not at all Sire. It's just we have been tracking this trail for days with no rest. We are all weary and tired and you may not be seeing things as clearly as you think."

"I do not ask for your advice Lancelot, nor do I warrant it." Arthur responded, his voice harsh and cold. He didn't even try to hold back his anger. Yes it was true that was pushing his men hard the past couple of days, but he had to. If there was even a small chance that Merlin could be saved he was going to take it, and exhaustion be damned. He turned to look the knight in the eye, his stare piercing him like daggers. "Everything I have seen these past few days tells me that this is Merlin's trail and we are not going to stop until we find him."

Before Lancelot could respond, Leon stepped in-between the two men. "Sire he has a point, we will do Merlin no good, if we collapse from exhaustion before we find him. Even the horses are tiring; they cannot keep going at this pace."

Arthur let out a sigh, He was hoping to forgo a full explanation, but realized his men wouldn't follow easily if he didn't.

"Sir Leon, bring the others. There is something I want to show you." Arthur commanded. He jumped down from the saddle and knelt down in front of the tracks again. Leon called the other knights and soon they were all gathered around him.

"Look," Arthur said, running his fingers across the bloody footprint. He held up his hand and rubbed his thumb across his fingers, smearing the wet blood on his glove.

Leon looked up at the prince in surprise. "It's fresh."

"Yes, which means we're close." He pointed to the tracks again. "See how the tracks are uneven and they no longer go in a strait path. He keeps stumbling from tree to tree. Which means he's slowing down, using the trees for support."

"Yes sire, but the boy seems to be naturally clumsy. This maybe normal for him." Leon pointed out.

Arthur shook his head. "No, I don't think so Leon, I have been in the forest with him hundreds of times. He may be a clumsy oaf, but not like this. You saw the tracks yourself, have you not noticed that they don't stop, not even to rest? He just keeps going. Something is wrong, for some reason that idiot refuses to stop.

"Fear," Percival said interrupting.

"What?"

"Fear Sire." Percival stood to face the prince and the other knights. "Fear can push a man beyond his limits. Make him do things that he normally wouldn't do. As I see it there has only been this one set of tracks, which makes me hopeful that he was able to escape. I just pray that it is the fear of getting caught again the keeps him moving and not something more."

"I do too, but we won't know for sure unless we find him. And the amount of blood I'm seeing worries me."

"You think he may have serious wounds?" Gwaine asked.

"No, it's not that..." Arthur trailed off, looking up his eyes followed the signs of broken branches and bloody footprints that his servant had left in his wake.

"Well don't leave us in the dark princess. What is it?"

"Most of the blood is probably coming from him scratching himself up on the trees and shrubs." Arthur walked over to one of the broken branches cover in a small amount of blood and snapped it off, holding it up to Gwaine. "What worries me is this. I am seeing more and more of this the further we go."

"Yeah, but for all we know the kid might be doing this on purpose, leaving us some sort of trail to follow."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "This is Merlin we're talking about Gwaine. The boy has no sense of self preservation. He is hurt, probably scared and from the looks of it exhausted. He doesn't seem to have the sense to find a safe place to take shelter and rest. I fear if we don't find him soon, he is liable to walk off a cliff, or be carried off by a river or something."

"Oh come on Arthur, Merlin wouldn't..." Arthur glared at him, as he came to the same realization. "You know what, I think we better find him...and quick."

Arthur turned towards Leon. "Listen, I need you to take Elyan and Lancelot, go back to that small clearing back by the river. Set up camp and wait for us. I'll take the others and hopefully we will find him and bring him back before it gets dark."

Leon nodded and placed a hand on the prince's shoulder, offering a small gesture of comfort. He understood Arthurs determination, and knew that he wouldn't stop, not now that they where so close to finding him. "Be careful my lord, even though we only see one set of tracks, she may still be near. She could be setting a trap for you."Arthur nodded.

"I know, but it doesn't matter. Either way I'm not going to leave him out here in this god forsaken forest alone. It's my fault he's in this mess in the first place."His thoughts turned back to a few nights ago. Gaius had woken him in the middle of the night and told him that Merlin had been taken. Snatched out of his bed in the middle of the night by Morgana and her men. Before the servant could even comprehend what was going on she had whisked him away in a whirlwind of magic. It angered him that the witch would strike out at him by going after his servant. As far as he was concerned it was a cowardly attack, one that she would regret the moment he got his hands on her.

"Don't blame yourself my lord. You couldn't have seen this coming, none of us did. I do not believe she took your manservant just simply to strike at you. Morgana is smart and full of deception, there is more to her plan than we can see."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Arthur said grimly as he mounted. "Oh and Leon, Have the supplies Gaius sent with us ready, I fear we are going to need them."

Leon only answered with a small bow, and turned to gather the others. With that the two groups spilt and headed in opposite directions.

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Arthur and the others had only been riding for less than an hour when he raised his hand and signaled the others to stop.

"What is it?" Gwaine asked.

"I'm not sure, I thought I heard something."

Gwaine tilted his head, and tried to focus his hearing on the forest around him. "I don't hear any..." He never finished his sentence as a ear shattering scream suddenly pierced the air, startling the horses. The scream was so raw, it felt like it was rattling his very bones.

"That's got to be him, come on!" Arthur shouted.

"Wait Arthur!" Gwaine yelled. Before he could move the ground suddenly began to shake violently. His horse reared and threw him to the forest floor with a thump. He barely had time to register what happened, when he was forced to roll out of the path of the frightened animal's hooves.

From were he lay he could see Arthur and Percival struggling to try and keep their animals calm. The horses began to rear and buck on their hind legs, whinnying with fright. The animals were desperately trying to keep their balance, as the ground continued to tremble. Then slowly the tremors died down, and there was an eerie silence that blanketed the forest.

"What the hell was that?" Gwaine asked as he sat up and brushed himself off.

"I don't know but there is no time to figure it out. Come on!" Arthur yelled. He took off in a full gallop, and disappeared into the trees, Percival falling in close behind him.

"I'm fine too, thanks for asking," Gwaine mumbled to himself. He quickly mounted and charged after the two knights.

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Arthur slowed his mount, as he came up to a shallow river, he scanned the forest floor desperately trying to find some sign of his wayward servant. His eyes came to a stop when they fell onto a small form lying on the ground just on the other side of the river.

"No!" Arthur whispered to himself. He would have almost missed him if it wasn't for the paleness of his skin that stood out in places that were not covered in mud and dirt. He heard a small gasp from behind him as Percival came upon the sight.

Arthur quickly jumped down from his horse and tossed the reins to Percival. "Keep a look out, we may not be alone."

The Prince was across the river in less than a second. Fear pulled at his heart, as he thought that maybe he was too late. He let out a small breath, one that he didn't even realize he was holding. He could see Merlin's chest rise and fall and he was making small gasping sounds. Small trails off red mingled with the flowing water at his feet. His servant was still dressed in his night clothes, well what was left of them anyway. They were tattered and shredded, and bloody from the cuts and scratches that covered his entire body. Arthur winced as he took a closer look at his feet. There was nothing left of his socks, but small bits that covered his ankles. The frayed edges soaked red.

Concerned, Arthur kneeled down to look at Merlin and felt his heart drop. His usually bright eyes looked dull with pain and his vision was unfocused, staring off into the forest sky. His body was tense and tremors shook the small frame. His left hand was clenched into a fist pressed tightly into his chest.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked gently. He shuddered slightly but gave him no sign of recognition. Now greatly alarmed and quite worried about his friend. Arthur tried again, reaching out a hesitant hand towards the boys shoulder. "Merlin?"

Merlin came alive at his touch, flinching away like a wild thing, his eyes widening and starring at him in terror. Arthur quickly suppressed his flash of hurt at the reaction with his worry. "Merlin? It's me, Arthur. You're safe," he tried again, making sure to keep his voice reassuring and even.

Merlin shuddered violently and continued staring at him wide-eyed. His obvious fear of him stabbed at Arthur's very core. For a brief moment he felt a surge of pure, unadulterated hatred for the monster that had reduced his servant to this.

"Is he okay?" Gwaine asked, kneeling down on the other side of him. Although he knew the answer, he just didn't know what else to say.

"I don't know, he doesn't seem to be aware of what's going on." He reached out again, this time placing his hand on his servants forehead, it felt like fire. "His skin burns with fever. We need to get him back to camp and tend to these injuries and quickly." Arthur growled. Gently gripping Merlin's small wrists he tried to sit him up. Suddenly the servant began to panic. His arms started flailing wildly, pulling out of Arthurs grasp. One limb came up and his hand hit Arthur in the face.

"Ow! Dammit!" Arthur yelled. He reached out and grabbed a hold of Merlin's wrists again, tightening his hold this time and forcing the flailing arms down.

It was too much, Merlin continued fighting, convinced the men standing over him was his tormentors, coming back to inflict more pain and suffering. He tried to pull his arms away and kicked his legs weakly, splashing mud and water everywhere.

"Merlin!" Arthur's voice was sharp and it cut through his hazy mind. "It's Arthur! Calm down! Just look at me, your safe now!"

Everything came to a grinding halt at the words. Merlin immediately stilled, and quit struggling. His eyes were open, but they were glassy, unfocused. "..Arthr... he whispered.

Gwaine blinked in shock as Merlin immediately stilled when Arthur barked his name again. All struggling ceased and Merlin went completely limp in the prince's grip. As far as Gwaine could tell Merlin was still listening and seem only vaguely aware of what was going on it around him.

"Merlin can you hear me?" the prince asked softly. "Can you understand what I'm saying?"

Merlin nodded, his movements shaky as though his body was about to fly apart and he was trying mightily to hold himself together. He was fighting through the pain and exhaustion, trying to understand what was happening, where he was, and what was going on.

Arthur could feel the tremors that flowed through the small frame. "That's good. Now just relax, we need to pull you out of this water. Do you understand?" He asked, trying to keep his voice calm. He moved his head in front of the boys vision trying to get him to look at him, but his eyes still remained unfocused, and darted from side to side.

"Gwaine, help me with him." He grabbed Merlin's legs, and Gwaine hooked his hands under his arms and they lifted him out of the freezing water. A small cry escaped Merlin's lips as the movement jostled his bruised body and pulled at his sore muscles.

"st..stop...urts" Merlin rasped, his voice nothing more than a rough whisper.

"Easy, almost there," Gwain said. They moved him a few yards from where he was and gently lowered him to the ground. Gwaine positioned himself behind Merlin so that he could lean back against him, snaking his arm around his waist to keep him from falling over.

Arthur left for a moment to grab something from Percival, who was now standing a few feet away and returned quickly to the injured boy's side. He gently placed his hand behind Merlin's head, and put something to his lips.

Merlin flinched away from the touch trying to turn his head away, but Arthur's strong grip kept him in place. Merlin's sleep deprived mind was still playing tricks on him, and for a moment he thought that he was back with Gaius, and he was trying to make him drink one of his foul tonics, tonics that always seemed to make him sleepy.

"No...don wanna sleep...can't sleep'" he pleaded. He reached out with a shaky hand and grabbed Arthurs arm trying to push the water skin away. "...can't go back...die first. " his voice was nothing more than a whispered croak now.

Arthur and Gwaine stared at each other in confusion over the ramblings. "Easy Merlin," Gwaine said as he tightened his hold. "No one is going to make you sleep if you don't want to."

"Merlin, it's just water, and you will drink," Arthur ordered, placing the waterskin against his lips once more. Again the servant seemed to comply as Arthur raised his voice.

As soon as the water touched his lips, he became ravenous for it. Merlin tried to gulp the cool liquid as fast as he could, but Arthur poured it slowly, so he wouldn't choke.

"Slowly Merlin, it will all come back up if you drink to fast," Arthur put the waterskin down and gently lifted Merlin's chin, trying to get him to make eye contact with him. "There, better?" he asked.

This time it worked and Merlin locked eyes with him and slowly nodded. He could see some of the fogginess disappear from his eyes. He still continued to shake and tremble in Gwaine's arms.

Arthur removed his cloak and tossed it to Gwaine. "Cover him with that, we need to keep him warm."

Gwaine quickly wrapped the cloaked around the trembling shoulders and rubbed his hands up and down the boy's arms trying to get some warmth into him.

"We need to wrap his feet, and stop the bleeding before we can take him back." Arthur looked up a Percival, who was still tending to the horses and watching the forest around them. "Percival, there is some strips of cloth in my saddle bag, fetch them and help me with his feet," he ordered.

Both men each took one of Merlin's bleeding feet and gently begin to wipe away the blood and mud, wrapping the cloth around them. Merlin hissed in pain and tried not to flinch away as the fabric pressed against the open cuts.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Arthur asked, trying to distract Merlin. "How did you manage to escape?" He stopped what he was doing and looked up at him and saw nothing but fear and guilt in his eyes.

Merlin stared into Arthurs eyes as memories of the past few days began to flood his mind. The pain and heartache, and all the suffering he had witnessed. His lower lip began to tremble as he tried to form the words, but nothing would come out. The emotions began to overwhelm him. Shutting his eyes he turned his head away in shame, burying it into Gwaine's shoulder. He felt Arthurs gently squeeze his knee and mumble something about it being okay, that he could tell them when he was ready. He knew Arthur wanted answers, he just wasn't sure he had the strength to tell him.

Slowly he turned his head back and stared at the prince, his eyes welling up with tears. With a shaky hand he reached out and took a hold of the hand on his knee, turning it so that it the palm was facing up. With his other hand he placed it over Arthurs and let the bloody object he had held onto for days drop into the Prince's hand. With the last of his strength gone, he went limp in Gwaine's arms and retreated back into that place in his mind where the pain and hurt couldn't reach him.


End file.
